


Black Coffee

by slashshat



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Charles Xavier - Freeform, Dark Erik Lehnsherr, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Lehnsherr - Freeform, Erik is beyond salvation, Erik is one sad boi, Erik-centric, Hurt Erik Lehnsherr, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26043685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashshat/pseuds/slashshat
Summary: It was 3:30 AM and he was awake. It had been happening for a while now and he knew better than trying to fall asleep again. Initially, he had tried to hold on that state of semi-consciousness, desperately waiting to plunge into oblivion. But the absolution of sleep was denied to him. Instead, the in-betweenness had become all-encompassing, spreading from his bedsheets into every corner of his existence. It was 3:30 AM and Erik was awake. Awake - but only half here.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Kudos: 6





	Black Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! So, here goes nothing. This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction and English is not my native language. Tiny disclaimer here. I basically wanted to write something where Erik is reassessing his life, but in the end, he is beyond salvation. Hope you will enjoy!
> 
> !TRIGGER WARNING! The paragraph "Repentance" contains mentions of violence.

3:30 AM - Semi-consciousness

It was 3:30 AM and he was awake. It had been happening for a while now and he knew better than trying to fall asleep again. Initially, he had tried to hold on that state of semi-consciousness, desperately waiting to plunge into oblivion. But the absolution of sleep was denied to him. Instead, the in-betweenness had become all-encompassing, spreading from his bedsheets into every corner of his existence. It was 3:30 AM and Erik was awake. Awake - but only half here.

3:45 AM - Solitude

At the beginning he had screamed. Whether it was out of frustration or to reassert his existence he didn’t know.But it was useless now. His vocal cords seemed to have melted together, robbing him of his voice and trapping his inner turmoil inside his chest, right next to his heart. Besides, there was nobody who would have listened. He had made sure of that. Erik was alone and alone he walked through his apartment at night - surrounded by insignias of a happier past. A myriad of framed smiles clouded his field of vision as he moved across the hall. Snippets of _him_ , everywhere. Everywhere but here. Happiness. Happiness was long forgotten. Now, there was only solitude. Solitude, semi-consciousness and silence.

4:00 AM - Repentance

He liked the feeling of his bare feet against the carpet. Always had. When he was a child, he would dig his toes into the soft fabric, relishing in that brief feeling of contentment it offered him in that godforsaken place. He would observe the small tufts framing his toes while the sound of leather against skin echoed in the stairwell. And as the screams grew louder and louder, almost deafening, his feet pressed down harder and harder against the fabric leaving two sets of imprints- only his didn’t bleed. Instinctively, his hand now covered his heart. He almost expected to brush scar-tissue. But no letter, no trace of his sin, was etched on his body. The marks had long been buried, alongside his mother’s body. She had died taking his silence to the grave. Now, there was only repentance. Repentance, solitude, semi-consciousness and silence.

4:15 AM - Impenetrable

The boiling moka snapped him out of his thoughts. And while he poured hot water into the coffee in order to dilute it, he finally made the connection. For the past weeks this nightly ritual had been accompanied by a thought which seemed to be simmering inside of his skull but never penetrated the surface. At last, semi-consciousness was replaced by realization. It made the hairs on his neck stand up. The coffee. Not the coffee itself, but what it stood for. Ever since he had left that place, Erik had become a black-coffee-man. Impenetrable, inviolable even. He stared in disbelief as everything he was, his entire identity, seemed to be contained at the bottom of that mug. Fragmented coffee grounds submerged under a layer of water. A watered-down version of himself.

4: 30 AM - Diluted

On the balcony Erik lit his first cigarette watching listlessly as the cold turned his breath into tiny clouds. The cold. It made him think of that last trip. That last devastating fight. He could still remember how cold it had been that day. Next to him, he had barely felt it. Next to him he had been a different man. Softer. Diluted, maybe, but happy. And yet, he could not stay. Because he had wanted unconditionality. Because he had flushed his entire being from the inside out with the force of a tidal wave. Until the black-coffee-man in him was yapping for air in a sea of diluted expectations. It was an osmosis he couldn’t risk. Not without compromising the fragile identity he had created since he had left _that_ place. And now here he was, willingly drowning the black-coffee-man sip by sip. Because his existence created only solitude, semi-consciousness and silence. Erik lit another cigarette. The cold, he did feel it now. Deep in his bones.

7:30 AM - Black Coffee

The typewriter had been a gift of his. He had loved it then. Now, he felt the like hurling it across the room. Because he couldn’t find the words. He had been desperately searching in the corners of his mind but the sense of purpose he had felt had been flushed away, like coffee grounds down the drain. Ineptitude and in-betweenness had taken over again and all that remained of his last attempt at resurrection was a coffee-stained envelope. The name on top had been rendered illegible. Blackened. Wiped out. _Charles_ no longer was. From his window he observed his neighbors crossing the courtyard. Parents and children. Families. Charles - their sight was unbearable - Charles - _unbearable_ \- because Charles no longer was. He closed the curtains and made one last coffee. This time, he didn’t pour water in it.


End file.
